Saiyan Blood
by Neth Rana
Summary: After Cell is defeated, Goku chooses not to be wished back by the dragon, not realizing the impact it would have on those he left behind. All the Z warriors struggle with what to do in his absence and in this time of peace. It's through this that an unlikely bond is formed, though perhaps one of them would never admit it. Set in the 7 years after Cell. Not yaoi!
1. Emptiness

A bird's song whistled through the wind, reaching the ears of the young demi-Saiyan. The warmth of the sun was beating down on his face and the sky twinkled in its reflection, a bright crystal blue. A squirrel was merrily chasing its partner nearby, gleefully chattering. The world around him seemed to be rejoicing. And why shouldn't they? They had been living in fear for so long. Finally, at long last, the impending doom looming over the earth had dissipated. Humans and creatures alike had taken to the streets, rejoicing for their new found freedom and release from the evil of the androids and Cell. Everyone's hearts were lighter. Except for his.

Gohan stared at the joy around him with nothing more than apathy. He couldn't bring himself to foster any emotions over the scene displayed around him. What did it matter? Thoughts were swirling around in his mind, memories of the past horrors and heartache he'd endured, and questions of what it all meant for his future. What did it really matter? What was joy when his Father was dead, and it was all his fault? He flinched as his Father entered his mind. His selfish, kind, goofy, stupid Father.

How could he do it? How the _fuck _could he just not come back? Didn't he care? It was his fault, _his _fault that his Father was gone. He knew it and guilt wracked him every moment of every day. But he won. He fucking won, he did it, he defeated Cell! They had the dragonballs, they were going to bring everyone back to life! Everything was supposed to be okay again! But no. No, his Father refused to return, refused to come back home. And for what? Another fucking adventure? Why couldn't he just come home and be with him and his Mother? His Mother…

His poor, dear Mother was inside, fast asleep. She cried herself to sleep every night and nightmares haunted her when she'd finally drifted off. He was constantly waking her, calming her, telling her everything was going to be okay. He thought things would've gotten better, that over time she would heal. But then she'd found out she was pregnant. He shook his head. Would that have changed his Father's mind? Would it have been different, would he have decided to stay if he'd known? Gohan frowned. It was selfish, but he hoped not. He hoped another son wouldn't have changed his Father's mind. If he wasn't good enough, then his other stupid kid brother shouldn't be either.

He titled his head back up towards the sky, the sun beating down on him. For the first time, he remembered that he too was just a kid. The weight of the world, literally, had been put on him. He held no grudge for that; he took it on willingly, determined to help in whatever way he could. But now he cursed having done so. He hated that it had been up to him, that they had all had to depend on _him. _His Father wasn't enough, or so he said, and now he was gone. Gohan shook his head.

He'd yet to cry since that moment of complete despair on the battle field. When he had first heard the news from his Father himself, on the lookout that day, he'd put on a face. He had to. What was he supposed to do? Everyone was there and they were all looking at him. So he put on a smile, said it was okay, that he would be inspired in life by his Father's heroic memory. After that, he had just gone home, pretending everything was going to be okay.

Telling his Mother had been hard. She collapsed, but he still didn't cry. He didn't cry or scream or do any of the things he wanted to. He was there for his Mom, he was strong for her. A few days had passed in pain, constantly forcing things down. But a new emotion had taken over him since. Or rather, a lack of one. Emptiness was taking over him. A dark void was filling his soul, and he wasn't sure what to do. He had been seconds from some kind of emotional explosion, and then it was suddenly gone. Only emptiness remained. Sighing, he laid down on the lush grass and stared at the sky above him. He wondered where his Father was up there. He wondered what he was doing. He wondered if he missed him. And Gohan wondered if he would ever feel anything about it again.

* * *

><p>Bulma stared at the Saiyan prince sitting on her couch with confusion. He was just…sitting. He wasn't meditating, or ordering her to go make him food, or repair the gravity room. He was just sitting, an apathetic look on his face. Bulma held in a string of questions that were threatening to spill out of her. What was wrong with him? Vegeta was a lot of things, but after four years of living with the man, Bulma had learned that no matter what mood he was in, there was one trait that Vegeta always exhibited: passion. Bulma had never met such a passionate being in all her life. She had never seen someone work so hard and literally <em>kill <em>themselves to reach their goal. Vegeta trained, worked, thought, lived, and breathed in passion. It was what made his blood boil, what made him so intense…it was what had attracted her to him in the first place, and the reason they were now living under the same roof with their child. His every moment was dictated by his passion. Until now.

Apathy. When had Bulma ever seen apathy in Vegeta? She couldn't recall a time. And seeing it now scared her. She wasn't sure what to think…their relationship, or whatever the hell it was, had been quite rocky. He could be such an ass sometimes, and so selfish, only caring about himself. Still, Bulma knew she had seen a side of Vegeta that few had…maybe _only _she had. If he would talk to anyone about whatever was going in that thick head of his, it would be to her. But she wasn't sure if that would even happen. She wasn't even sure if he was staying or not! She couldn't get an answer out of him. She could hardly get a fucking _word _out of him anymore. It was infuriating…and worrying. She wished she knew what to do. Sighing, she decided to take a stab at it. She'd been staring at him for days now, but she never went for it. Today would be different. She told herself it was for him. That she didn't care if he was _passionate _or not. But her heart knew otherwise. It knew she needed his constant attention, his constant arguing and bickering with her. But today, she told herself it was for him.

"Vegeta?" She tried to make her voice as gentle and soft as possible, but he still flinched. He glared at her, but offered no answer. There seemed to be dark circles beginning to form under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days. She wouldn't put it past him. The warning in those eyes was something she'd seen for a long time and something that would've scared her into silence years ago. But things had changed since then. And so she tried again.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows in irritation. That damn woman just couldn't take a hint. What the hell did she want? He didn't want to talk to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare ahead in defiance.

"_Vegeta._"

"_What?_" he snapped before he could stop himself. Bulma held back a smirk. It was good to hear his voice again, though she felt like an idiot thinking so. And even more, it was good to see him showing emotion, even if that emotion was irritation towards her. Vegeta pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want?" he muttered. Bulma frowned. His typical demand had quickly dissipated back to indifference. But Bulma wasn't going to let him get away with it. This had gone on long enough. She put her hands on her hips.

"_Look, _I'm sick of this Vegeta. You're moping around, not doing anything! What the hell is wrong with you? Why aren't you training? Cell is gone! Aren't you gonna try to take over the world or something?" An uncomfortable silence fell upon them before Bulma continued. "_Hello? _Are you even listening to me?" Nothing. Bulma took a deep breath. "Vegeta…are you okay? What happened?" Vegeta slowly turned his head to face her, locking eyes for a moment before speaking.

"Why the fuck do you care?" It was Bulma's turn to stare. His words caught her off guard. Why _did _she care? Was it because she had a child with him? Was it because of the rare, soft moments they'd spent together over the past years? Was it because she knew he was the only person around that was mentally capable of keeping up with her, insulting her, keeping her on her toes? Why did she care?

"I…I don't know," she admitted softly. His cold, blank eyes continued to bore into hers. "But I do." Silence encased them once more, a deep, calculated silence. Whatever was said next could mean something, could determine where things were going with them. It was a tense silence, a hard silence, an uncomfortable and nerve wracking silence. Finally, Vegeta sighed. His eyes seemed to soften for a moment before he stood to his feet. He had the most genuine look on his face when he finally turned to her and spoke.

"You're an idiot."

Bulma stood there for what seemed like ages after he'd left. Three years ago, a comment like that would have sent her over the edge. Three years ago, she would've felt he'd insulted her and that she needed to defend herself. Three years ago, she would've started screaming, and he would've broken something before taking to the skies and not returning for weeks. But instead, she said nothing. Instead, she let him go upstairs. Instead, she let a small smile spread across her face. Because he was right; she _was _an idiot. But she couldn't help it, she cared about him. And he had just accepted that.

* * *

><p>Vegeta stared out the window, complete darkness surrounding him. Had he just confirmed that he was staying? What was happening to him? Images filled his mind, memories of the proud, strong warrior that he once was. What the hell had happened to him? That he wouldn't be strong enough to defeat Cell, that he wouldn't be strong enough to save his own son, that he would have to be saved by a fucking child…it was disgraceful. He should've been angry, raging mad, threatening to destroy the Earth and all the people along with it, <em>including<em> her. Including that stupid blue haired woman. _He _should be the next greatest threat to the world, taking Cell's place. But instead he was here, instead he was empty, staring out the window of her room, allowing himself to live life with people he had once thought far beneath him.

And so he sat in silence, contemplating his situation, wondering when he would feel something about it. But the emptiness remained. It remained after hours had ticked by on the red clock on the wall beside him. It remained after she came in, after she laid down, and after he laid down next to her. The emptiness remained as he lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling, sleep long from gracing him with its presence. The emptiness remained. And he wondered if he'd ever feel more than nothing again.


	2. An Idea

Time passed slowly and yet quickly, as it often seemed to do. Somehow doing nothing had become exhausting, and Vegeta found himself feeling lethargic and irritated. He snapped at everyone and everything, quickly blowing his fuse. To the average eye, it would seem that Vegeta wasn't much different than before. But Bulma knew better. He had always had a short fuse with people, never knowing how to act with them, and so would often lash out. But Vegeta himself was quite a loner. He spent a lot of time to himself, and was actually quite quiet. If he wasn't training, he could often be found sitting in silence, taking in everything around him. But not now. Now he was always angry, always lashing out, always cussing and screaming about something. He had also become quite destructive. They'd already gone through five fridges, three couches, nine beds, two sinks, and seventeen doors. The expense wasn't a problem, but Bulma was beginning to get really worried.

It was obvious to her that Vegeta was craving battle. He was a warrior and fighting was his way of life. It was all he'd ever known. As long as he'd been around, he was either fighting other people, or fighting himself in preparation. He'd spent millions of hours in the gravity room, running himself into the ground, determined to get stronger. He would end up hurting himself, halfway heal, and then insist on going back to training. Bulma had seen this vicious cycle countless times in the years leading up to the androids. She had expected more or less the same routine afterwards. But instead, she'd gotten the complete opposite. Vegeta didn't train. At all. She had convinced herself that he must have been sneaking into the gravity room at night. She had set up a secret log in the computer, so it would tell her when he had trained. But the last log-in was before Cell.

A Vegeta that didn't trained was a Vegeta she didn't know, and a Vegeta she was beginning to fear for. It was obvious that he was suffering because of it, and yet he refused to pick it back up again. She had made the mistake of mentioning it once, and there were several furniture casualties because of it. Since then, she'd made sure to keep a close eye on him. Bulma sighed. Why was he doing this? It made no sense to her. It was Vegeta, for Kami's sake! Didn't he live and breathe for trying to physically kill himself? What was so different now? Was it really Goku's death? She took in a sharp breath and held back the tears that quickly sprang to her eyes. Goku's death…something that haunted them all.

He'd been gone for a while now. And it wasn't like this was the first time he had died. But this time…he wasn't coming back. Goku, her childhood friend…her stupid, goofy, loving friend. And now he was just…gone. No one had been the same since. The only person that she had expected it _not _to effect was Vegeta. And yet…it was almost as if it had affected him the most. She couldn't fathom why. Sure, his lifelong rival was now gone…but was that really the only reason Vegeta had fought and trained? To beat Goku? It didn't seem right to her.

The only ones who were more upset about Goku's death were Chi-Chi and Gohan, which was expected. Gohan…the poor kid hadn't been the same since the defeat of Cell and the death of his Father. He had tried so hard to be strong for his Mother and the coming baby. It was obvious he was holding a lot inside. But he was quickly becoming as ill-tempered as Vegeta. He snapped at everyone _but _his Mother, and was quick to get angry. He always seemed agitated about something. It was like having a mini Vegeta…Bulma's eyes grew wide, as suddenly an idea entered her mind. Perhaps it was crazy but…it could work…

Chi-Chi gently hung up the phone, a solemn look on her face. A few months ago, she would have gone crazy over what her friend had just suggested. And really, she still wanted to go crazy over it. But deep down, she knew what Bulma was saying was right. She had definitely noticed a drastic change in her son over the past few months. While he was still patient with her, he could be ruthless with others. He screamed at people and became irritated in a way she had _never _seen before. This wasn't her son, and that thought terrified her. As difficult as it was for her, she knew she had to do what was best by Gohan.

As if on cue, he came slowly down the stairs. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. He noticed her looking at him, and forced a smile. His Mother was starting to show just a little bit now. If you'd just met her, you might not have been able to tell. But he could see the small bulge in her stomach, however slight. He'd also noticed a bit of variation in her moods. He had always imagined pregnant women being insane, ranting and raving all the time. But instead his Mother had just become a bit weepy. He wasn't sure if that was due to the pregnancy, or the absence of his Father. Gohan's eyes darkened at this thought, and Chi-Chi frowned as she noticed his change in expression. She gently patted the seat next to her at the table.

"Gohan, sweetheart, come sit down." He made his way toward the chair, a questioning look in his eye. He sat down carefully.

"What's up?" Chi-Chi forced a smile.

"How are you, dear?" Gohan furrowed his eyebrows. Was this just small talk?

"Umm…I'm fine. I'm good Mom, how are you? How's…the baby?" Chi-Chi nodded.

"Good, he's good. He's….he's good. Um. Listen Gohan…I think you need to start training again." Gohan thought he was going to fall out of his chair. Had he heard right? Did his _Mother _just tell him to start training again?

"Mom," he said reaching his arm out towards her. "Are you feeling okay?" A sad smile graced Chi-Chi's face. She knew Gohan was going to have this reaction. And who could blame him? His whole life she'd done everything she could to stop him from training. She'd screamed at Goku and practically forbid Gohan from seeing Piccolo. It was all to no avail, but she had done her best. But ever since Goku had…left, things had been different. Gohan hadn't been the same. He'd seemed detached, confused…and angry.

Chi-Chi knew her son thought he was hiding it, but she had noticed his unusually short temper from the beginning. He never did anything, and whenever he tried to it just left him angry. He sat and brooded all day, and she was sick of it. She hated seeing him in such a bad state. She wasn't crazy about the idea of him fighting again, but she also knew that as hard as it was for her to admit sometimes, her son was half-Saiyan. He _needed _fighting in his life. And now that it was gone, she was seeing the repercussions.

"I'm fine, Gohan. I just…I know you're not happy, sweetie." Gohan looked down at the floor. He'd thought he was hiding it pretty well. But it would seem he'd been wrong. Chi-Chi sighed. "It's fine, honey. It's…I mean…Given everything that's happened. It's completely normal. But I think training will help you…release some of those emotions." Gohan shrugged.

"Maybe. I guess I could ask Piccolo." Chi-Chi sighed.

"I tried asking him already." Gohan looked up in surprise.

"Wait, what?" Chi-chi waved him off with her hand.

"Yes, yes, I asked him if he would train you the last time he came over, but he said no." Gohan's face darkened.

"What? Wh…why would he say no?" Chi-Chi shrugged.

"He told me that he wasn't enough of a challenge for you. He said you would be upset about it, but that you needed someone who you could really…let loose with." Gohan furrowed his eyebrows.

"But if not Piccolo, who else could I possibly do that with?" An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Chi-Chi looked down at her shoes. There was one person…but that couldn't be it. Surely his Mother, of all people, wouldn't be suggesting…? Gohan racked his brain for every person he knew capable of fighting. But there was only one who would be of any challenge to him, as Piccolo had said.

"Mom…"

"I know."

"Are…are you sure you're okay with this?" Chi-Chi smiled and gently put her arms around her son.

"If I've learned anything in my life, it's that sometimes thing are going to happen that I'm not okay with. And while it's difficult for me, my job as your Mother is to do what's ultimately best for you." She pulled Gohan back and looked him in the eyes. "I love you, sweetheart." Gohan smiled.

"I love you too, Mom."


	3. Refusal

_Hello everyone! I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to continue with this! So as a reward, here are two chapter! :) Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!_

_~Neth_

* * *

><p>"What the hell do you want?" Gohan gulped. He had expected this to be an unpleasant exchange. Still, he had hoped it might go smoother than it was currently.<p>

"I uh…I wanted to talk to you about something."

"No. Go away." The Saiyan prince turned and strode down the hall, away from Gohan. He couldn't help but notice how regally Vegeta walked, pride radiating from him with every step. The way Bulma had talked made it seem as though Vegeta had become timid and uncertain. But he wasn't showing any of that now. Gohan followed, feeling like a child as he slowly trotted after him, trying to keep up. He finally made it to the kitchen, where he found Vegeta sitting at the table, eating something Bulma's mother had just put in front of him. Gohan stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Umm…Vegeta…"

"Get out of my house." Gohan furrowed his eyebrows. What an odd comment. Wasn't this _Bulma's_ house? Why would Vegeta refer to it as _his_? But Gohan knew better than to mention it.

"Um, well I wanted to ask you a question."

"And I want you to get out." Gohan took a deep breath and noted that facing Vegeta could be scarier than facing Cell and Frieza combined. But he had known he was going to react this way, and pressed on.

"I…I want to train with you." Vegeta raised an eyebrow before quickly lowering it and turning back to his food.

"No."

"Just hear me out."

"No."

"I've been thinking a lot…"

"No."

"And things have been kind of tense around the house…"

"_No,_" he said gruffly. He stood up and slammed his chair under the table, leaving the food for the annoying blonde woman to clean up, while Gohan continued.

"It's just that I've been dealing with a lot of emotions…"

"Oh Kami. _No._"

"But-" Vegeta whirled around to face him.

"Do you hear what I'm saying boy? NO!"

"But I don't have anyone to train with."

"I don't give a fuck."

"Piccolo says I need to blow off steam."

"So go spar with him and leave me alone." Gohan looked down at his feet, trying to hide both his nerves and his frustration.

"I can't."

"Not my problem," Vegeta said angrily before pushing Gohan out of the way. He began to make his way down the hall, but Gohan ran after.

"Vegeta please. You're the only one who can challenge me!" Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks. Gohan expected an evil smirk across his face, and was surprised when he turned around glaring. If looks could kill, Gohan would be long gone. He stared at him menacingly before finally speaking.

"What do you want from me kid?" he spat. "Haven't you taken enough of my honor from me as it is? Haven't you already stripped me of enough pride?!" Gohan shook his head, not understanding.

"Wha-"

"I fought Cell, did I not? I too tested my strength, and I failed!" He was now screaming. "My destiny was stolen from me once again, this time by a half-breed twit! And not just any half-breed, but _Kakarot's!_ And you show up here, acting as though you can't beat me in a spar. You ask me for help, as if I'm too ignorant to know the truth!" Vegeta whipped around and took off down the hall again. "Fuck you."

"But Vegeta-" But he was already gone. Gohan watched him fly down the hall and felt his energy signal immediately take to the sky. He hung his head in defeat. He should've known Vegeta would resent him for defeating Cell. It hadn't even occurred to him. He shook his head. He was such an idiot. He thought he understood everything, but really he didn't understand anything at all.

"Please don't give up on him." Gohan turned to face the blue haired woman behind him.

"I'm sorry. I tried." Bulma smiled sadly and nodded.

"I know. But you have to keep trying. Vegeta's a stubborn man. You're never going to get him to do something on the first try," she chuckled and shrugged. "That's just the way he is. But he needs you," she said, her face turning serious. "He doesn't know it, but he does." Gohan frowned.

"But he hates me." At that, Bulma couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, well…with Vegeta, that's not always a bad thing." Gohan raised an eyebrow. Bulma shook her head.

"Just promise me you won't give up on him." The longing look in Bulma's eyes was not lost on Gohan. She was really concerned for Vegeta. Gohan tried to hide a small smile. Trunks had always told him that it was a moment of passion and loneliness between his parents, nothing more. And perhaps for the time that had been true. But in that timeline, Vegeta had died before anything else had had the chance to grow. Maybe there was something there after all. Gohan let the smile spread across his face.

"Okay Bulma. I promise." Bulma smiled back and she quickly pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Gohan," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Vegeta looked up at the sky, allowing his usual strong demeanor to vanish. Why the hell was that brat asking to train with him? He knew that he was stronger…what could his motive possibly be? It pissed him off. As if he hadn't lost enough as it was. He sighed. He was even worse off now. It had been four months since Kakarot had died, and Vegeta hadn't trained a single one of those days. He was out of practice, slower, and weaker. He could feel it. And yet still, he couldn't bring himself to go into the gravity room. What was the point?<p>

He had spent his entire life trying so desperately to get out of Frieza's grasp. Under his rule, strength was everything. Strength was survival. Training wasn't a question, it was living, _surviving. _It was all he'd ever known. And he'd been so desperate to get out of the situation, he would push himself to the brink, to the very edge of death. After Frieza's defeat, a feeling of…loneliness had crept over him. It was stupid and had really pissed him off. But for the first time he'd had no purpose, no goal to work towards. And then the boy had come and told them of the androids. He'd flaunted his Super Saiyan powers, just the same as Kakarot. And suddenly the fire came back. _He_ would be the one to defeat the androids, and claim his right as the most powerful being in the universe.

Things had not gone the way he'd planned. And then Cell had come into the mix, fucking up everything. To think that Kakarot's stupid brat had been the one to ultimately defeat him was a disgrace. And now he had the audacity to ask him to train. Vegeta sighed. He didn't know which was worse. All the shit that life had given him, all the unjust crap the universe had dealt him…Or the fact that part of him wanted to say yes. Part of him wanted to take Gohan up on his offer. He shook his head. And even worse, now he found himself wanting to go back to that damn place with that woman.

They had been spending a lot of time together lately, and what was worse was it had almost become…_comfortable. _He spat. He had fallen so far, so far from the life of royalty he so deserved. He had become a poor excuse for a man, actually _enjoying _the company of that blue-haired minx. Of course he would never admit it, but he wasn't sure he had to. She had this…_infuriating _way of knowing how he felt without him saying anything. Angrily he took to the skies, cursing them for what he'd become. He cursed the stars all the way back to Capsule Corp, to his room, and to his bed. He mentally cursed the heavens as he laid down and tried to relax, and continued cursing them as he heard her come in. He cursed her as she laid down next to him and silence stretched between them. And he cursed himself as he rolled over and kissed her, and took her into the night.


End file.
